Quotes About Stories

Some stories, you use up. Others use you up.

When we die, these are the stories still on our lips. The stories we'll only tell strangers, someplace private in the padded cell of midnight. These important stories, we rehearse them for years in our head but never tell. These stories are ghosts, bringing people back from the dead. Just for a moment. For a visit. Every story is a ghost.

Because the only frontier left is the world of intangibles, ideas, stories, music, art. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it.

Cuando nos morimos, esas son las historias que siguen en nuestro labios. Las historias que solamente les contamos a desconocidos, en algún lugar íntimo de la celda acolchada de la medianoche. Esas historias importantes que nos pasamos años ensayando mentalmente pero que nunca contamos. Esas historias son fantasmas, que traen a la gente de vuelta de entre los muertos. Solamente un momento. De visita. Cada historia es un fantasma.

To shut yourself off from these stories is to accept the banal version of reality that's always used to frame advertisements for miracle wrinkle creams and miracle diet pills . It's as if we've denied the real magic of life so that we can sell each other the sham magic of consumer products . Another example of the shop replacing the church .

In the workshop where I started to write fiction, you had to read your work in public. Most times, you read in a bar or coffeehouse where you'd be competing with the roar of the espresso machine. Or the football game on television. Music and drunk people talking. Against all this noise and distraction, only the most shocking, most physical, dark and funny stories got heard. Our test audience would never sit still for Barn-Raising Club.

Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messes cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown.

Some stories, Mr. Whittier would say, you tell them and you use them up. Other stories, they use you up.

La gente si innamora del proprio dolore al punto che non riesce più ad abbandonarlo. Lo stesso vale per le storie che racconta. Siamo noi stessi a tenerci in trappola».

Personal opinion time: some of the bravest, strangest, coolest stories right now are being told in the young adult space. It's stuff that doesn't fly by tropes or adhere to rules -- appropriate, perhaps, since young adults tend to flick cigarettes in the eyes of the rules and don't play by social norms as much as adults do.

Stories drag you through the mud of multiple emotions and through the thorn-tangle of thinky thoughts.

Life is equal parts strange and beautiful and horrible, and we're tossed into it without a map or an instruction guide. Poems and stories have a way of helping us make sense of things.

Kate had thought hula was something for tourists, girls in plastic skirts dancing to will songs about tiny bubbles in the champagne. Mehana's hula was different-a way of telling stories without words, a kimd of body poetry.

Clifford D. Simak did not dedicate his books very often, but he dedicated this one—to his dog. He loved dogs, and he made them prominent features of a number of his stories—and in this case he made it clear that the dog in question, Scootie, was the model for Nathaniel, who can be found in "Census," the third episode in this book, and who became legend to succeeding generations of dogs.

And the stories she'd been told, were they confessions of uncommitted crimes, accounts of the worst imaginable, imagined to keep fiction from becoming fact? The thought chased its own tail: these terrible stories still needed a first cause, a well-spring from which they leaped... Were these inventions common currency, as Purcell had claimed? Was there a place, however small, reserved in every heart for the monstrous?

Here are the stories written on the Book of Blood. They are a map of that dark highway that leads out of life towards unknown destinations. Few will have to take it, most will go on peacefully along lamplit streets, ushered out of living with prayers and caresses. But for a few, a chosen few, the horrors will come, skipping to fetch them off to the highway of the damned...

Maybe if they didn't tell you the stories ... they'd actually go out and do it.

He believed that our life-stories are ours to construct as we wish,within or even against the constraints posed by the real world...

On nights when Tom Bird felt separate from his life's design, he shared stories of the Great Spirit. The Great Spirit lived in all things—the earth, the sky, the animals and forests—flowing through and connecting them in a divine thread.

Things in life have no real beginning, though our stories about them always do.

We seldom know what echo our actions will find, but our stories will most certainly outlast us.

There would always be an expletive in a New York sentence. Even from a judge. Soderberg was not fond of bad language, but he knew its value at the right time. A man on a tightrope, a hundred and ten stories in the air, can you possibly fucking believe it?

We seldom know what echo our actions will find, buy our stories will most certainly outlast us.

I can still to this day hear my folks whispering and laughing before they went off to sleep: perhaps it is all I want to recall, perhaps our stories should stop on a dime, maybe things could begin and end right there, at the moment of laughter, but things don't begin and end really, I suppose; they just keep on going.